A Glorious Inheritance

​On May 20, 2012 I had the supreme joy of preaching at First Presbyterian, Warrensburg, MO.  This is the congregation that I was raised in and where the seeds of my call to ministry were planted.  It was also a great joy to share the service with my father, who served as the liturgist.  The readings for the day were Luke 24: 44-53 and Ephesians 1: 15-23.  As always, the text below is my speaking notes, not a word for word transcript.

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This past week I have been thinking about tradition.  Not only is today Presbyterian Heritage Sunday, the day when we celebrate the great traditions we have in the Presbyterian Church, but I am also rapidly approaching the end of my sixth and final year as a high school debate coach and with the end of the year comes the annual banquet.  If you have ever spent time with high school students I am sure you know that they are very big on traditions, especially when it comes to school activities.  There are things that simply must be done this time of year.  In the case of my debate team, this means speeches from the officers along with a litany of items that must be passed down to the next “generation” of team members, not to mention the many gifts that are exchanged over our dinner in the commons.  From lucky script books to an embroidered varsity letter from the days when Lee’s Summit only had one high school, these physical items remind the students that they are part of something bigger than themselves.  Of course, this tradition of passing things down certainly didn’t start at Lee’s Summit West.  When I was in high school here in Warrensburg, I was a trumpeter in the marching band.  Years before my time a fellow trumpet player had accidentally left an orange in his trumpet case; when he found it months later he realized that it hadn’t rotted - it just sort of shriveled up.  He, in his infinite wisdom, decided that meant it was a lucky orange - and passed it down to the next section leader.  By the time I came around it was a mummified rock the size - and color - and shape - of a walnut, but it was still passed from section leader to section leader with the promise of good luck for the year to come.  I don’t know if the mummy-orange is still passed down, but if it isn’t I’m sure something else has taken its place.

So, why is tradition so important, even among those who seem most eager to be different?  I think it is because we want to have a connection with other people, and traditions do that.  They remind us that we aren’t the only one who thinks something is important, and they remind us that we are part of something lasting.  More importantly, traditions help us understand the world we live in; they help us make sense of what it means to be us.

How difficult it must have been, then, to be living as part of that community in Ephesus.  You are living in one of the largest cities of the day; your home lies along the main trade route from Rome and Europe to the rest of the empire and the whole of Asia.  Traders and their goods come through the harbor, people from all parts of the Roman Empire pass through your city gates.  One of those many was a man named Paul.  He spent time in your city, and maybe you listened to him speak at the theatre.  Or maybe a friend or family member brought you to a meeting of believers after he left.  Regardless, you are now a part of this group that isn’t like any you have experienced.  They speak of one God, who rules over the whole world.  They speak of a risen Lord, Jesus Christ, who defeated death and will come again.  They speak with hope.  But, the church is still young, there are no statements of faith - no hymnal - no Sunday School to help people understand what it means to be Christian.  Luckily for the early church, they had amazing leaders like Paul.  Men and women who had experienced first hand the transformative power of Christ!  I can only begin to imagine the excitement that must have pulsed through the group when a letter arrived from Paul, written for them.

Unlike many of his other letters, Paul writes to the church at Ephesus not out of a need to fix something or solve a crisis, he writes to help the church understand its place in the world, how it is to go about relating to itself and those around it.  The letter to the Ephesians is full of practical advice.  However, before Paul dives into discussions of how God’s people should relate to one another, he begins with a prayer.

From The Message:

I ask—ask the God of our Master, Jesus Christ, the God of glory—to make you intelligent and discerning in knowing him personally, your eyes focused and clear, so that you can see exactly what it is he is calling you to do, grasp the immensity of this glorious way of life he has for his followers, oh, the utter extravagance of his work in us who trust him—endless energy, boundless strength!

He then goes on, describing this God that we serve:

All this energy issues from Christ: God raised him from death and set him on a throne in deep heaven, in charge of running the universe, everything from galaxies to governments, no name and no power exempt from his rule. And not just for the time being, but forever. He is in charge of it all, has the final word on everything. At the center of all this, Christ rules the church. The church, you see, is not peripheral to the world; the world is peripheral to the church. The church is Christ's body, in which he speaks and acts, by which he fills everything with his presence.

This isn’t just Paul being over-enthusiastic as he describes Christ.  This is Paul helping the Ephesians, and us, truly grasp what it means to be a follower of Christ.  In this reading Paul does two very important things.  First, he models prayer for the community.  Second, he proclaims the goodness and power of Christ.  Why are those items so important?  Paul knows that if we are to live lives in the fullness of Christ, then we must have a good grasp of our relationship not only with other people, but more importantly with God.  Paul first asks God to step into the lives of the readers and open their hearts and minds, he then proclaims the great power of Christ, thus helping the readers develop a greater understanding of how they fit into this world.

Some might say, at this point, that we don’t need the over-the-top rhetoric of Paul in the modern, 21st century church.  After all, we are much more educated and more aware than those folks in Ephesus, right?  Christianity is no longer a small minority group, always at risk from the authorities.  Many of us grew up in the church, our eyes are open enough, aren’t they?

Friends, I contend that the words of Paul are as important today as at any point in the history of the church.  We live in a world where luxury is available to more people at a lower price than at any point in history.  We live in a nation that prides itself on self-reliance, on being the king of our own destiny.  We are constantly bombarded with the idea that with enough money, you can have and do anything.  Against this the words of scripture ring out:

God put this power to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the age to come.

When we choose to follow Christ, we aren’t simply joining a club.  We are saying that we want our eyes to be opened and our minds made clear so that we can know the hope that is in Christ.  That hope is a glorious inheritance that has been passed down throughout the centuries, from parent to child, in family bibles and Sunday school rooms, in dark alleyways and bright cathedrals.  It is the hope that comes from knowing we serve a risen Lord, who conquered death and brings us victory, and that nothing in this world can ever keep us from his love.

That glorious inheritance can look like many things.  For me, it is the joy of worshiping with you this day.  As many of you know, I grew up in this church.  One of my earliest memories is lying in that pew right there, listening to the choir practice on Thursday nights.  I learned about the history of the church next door in Sunday School and I acted it out in many, many pageants.  I have shared wonderful conversation over doughnuts and apple juice, pancakes and egg casserole, and more deviled eggs than is probably good for any one person.  I learned that it doesn’t matter if you have a operatic voice, Kathy still wants you in the choir.  I learned that even if you aren’t really that funny, Alex will still teach you how to be a clown. But most importantly, I learned what it means to be a Christian.

In a little over a month, I will be packing up my dad’s truck and driving to New Jersey.  On July 2nd, I will walk into my first class at Princeton Theological Seminary, and God willing, in a few years I will have the great joy and privilege of serving as an ordained pastor in the Presbyterian Church.

Ever since I let people know that I was going to seminary, I have gotten lots of questions.  One of the most common is: “How do you know this is what you are supposed to do?”  I know because God has been getting me ready for a very long time - because I learned right here in this sanctuary what it means to serve Christ.  I know because this church sent me to church camp, on mission trips, and to triennium so I could learn how amazingly diverse the body of Christ is.  I know because after a while, you really have to start listening to all those people saying “have you thought about being a pastor?”

We have been blessed with a glorious inheritance - the hope and joy that comes from being a child of God. and that, my friends, that is something worthy of tradition.